Wait for the Dawn, My Dear
by APat96
Summary: In 1952, as Percy heads off to the front lines of the Korean War, Annabeth is anxious to tell him how she feels. She'd rather wait for the perfect moment, but will this make her lose out on her chance at love?


_Wait_. She had done enough of that. She had waited to be out of school. She had waited to find a job. She had waited to settle in. She had waited for him. She hadn't wanted to rush in. She hadn't wanted to assume, to act rashly. She had waited.

Waited for the dawn to come when she would declare her love for him. Waited for the day to come when she would be able to call him hers, and to wrap her arms around him and never let go. It was cheesy, but it was a continuous thought she kept in her mind.

Annabeth Chase was besotted with Percy Jackson. He just didn't know it. And, if she waited too long, he would never know it.

What was she, to him? A sister. A dorky, nerdy sister. More friend than lover. They had known each other since the age of twelve. Best friends ever since. He had loved her, sure. Like a sister.

Meanwhile, she lay in bed at night, thinking of him. Remembering his face. Tracing the lines of laughter that lay around his eyes. Falling asleep to the memories of his laughter.

Of course, it hurt, though, knowing that he had had girlfriends. Knowing that they were prettier than her. Smarter than her. More attractive than her.

And so she waited. She picked up those damn books of hers, and waited.

Annabeth had fallen asleep at night begging the Gods to let him ask her out. It was ridiculous. Pathetic, almost.

She had carted his things around for him, hoping, begging, almost, that he would appreciate the act so much so as to turn around, knock the things from her hands, and kiss her, deeply, passionately. Yeah. Like that would ever happen. She was just a hopeless idiot living in the past, where two twelve year olds had adventures together and had a hope for romance. Maybe just a glimmer.

And then there was the terrible flirting. She must have been deranged. She must have had a problem, to compliment him so blatantly. To grin like a fool. To act like an idiot. How could he not have known?

And _then_, there was her wish to wait. 'Wait for what?' you might ask. That's a good question. You would have to scratch your head at this, because Annabeth wasn't waiting for marriage. No, that would have been too soon.

Annabeth was waiting for school to be over. Then it was finding a good job. Then it was finding an apartment. And _then_, it was settling into life. And all that before she started dating.

You also might ask what prompted her to wait so long. That would also be a good question. You'd be shocked at the answer, though. She, in all her weak, idiotic glory, wanted to assure herself that she was making the right decision in lusting after a man. She wanted to make sure the timing was right. She wanted to make sure everything would be textbook.

A white picket fence, she had decided. They would marry in a small ceremony on the beach. No, wait, an inn. Much less sand and dirt to worry about. Yes, they would marry at an inn, up in Vermont, and then move to a starter home. The house would be sky blue, with, yes, that white picket fence. And Percy would come home every night promptly at six, where she would have a roast waiting in the oven. She would have a baby in one arm, and a martini in the other. It was perfect. It was by the book. It was…ridiculous.  
Who was she kidding? That would never happen. Percy wasn't going to be chained to some desk. No, he was shipping out for the army, for Gods' sake! He was leaving for war today! And she hadn't even thought to see him off.

If she waited for the right time, there would be no right time. If she waited too long, he would be gone. He would be the husband of another woman. Or, worse, he would be killed in Korea, without having ever known of her love.

It was then, on the 3rd of June 1952, that Annabeth leapt from the bed in her parents' house, bounding for the door. It was then that she slipped on her Mary Janes, grabbing a cardigan, snatching the keys for her Daddy's ford.

It was then that she drove to the train station, where the black locomotive sat chugging, while the innumerable men kissed their wives and girlfriends, hugging their children, smiling like goons. Goons that were afraid, though they refused to admit it.

Then, in the back of the commotion, a single man was leaning against the wall, his olive uniform crisp and clean, his black hair gelled and combed back, his green eyes covered by the tinted lenses of the aviator sunglasses he word. He looked among the crowd with a mildly blasé face. He was alone. No one had come to wish him off. He had no reason to stick around for any longer than he had to.

So Annabeth jumped from the car, weaving her way to the wall, smoothing her light blue linen dress as she went. The thought of what she was about to do sent chills up her spine, and she pulled her white cardigan closer to her skin, hoping to quell her goose bumps. Nervously, she tugged at her studious bun, making sure all the blonde curls were in check.

"Hey, Annabeth, you made it!" He grinned, pushing himself off of the wall as she walked towards him. "I didn't think you were coming!"

"Yeah, well," She stuttered, tucking a curl behind her ear, "I wasn't sure whether or not anyone would be coming for you."

"Well, uh, as you can see," He smiled, gesturing with his hands, "I'm loaded with gals swooping in to wish me off."

"Oh, well, I um…." She stumbled, unsure of what to say.

"Look, Wise Girl, that was just a joke." He chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I don't really have anyone."

"Oh." She mumbled, her face growing red.

"Hey, don't feel sorry on my behalf." He leaned back against the wall. "I'm just glad to be getting out of here. Maybe find some excitement, for once."

"Right, well, um…"

"And when I get back, everything's gonna be different. You're gonna be married to some guy, with a couple 'a kids, a nice picket fence."

"Married? You think?"

"Yeah, I heard Fred Levenson's got his eye on you."

"Please. I don't want Fred." She shrugged it off, struggling to remain cool. "I don't really want any a' the guys 'round here. Just one, really."

"Oh?" He grinned, raising one eyebrow. "An' who's that?"

She took a deep breath, stealing herself, as the General called for everyone to line up. "You." She said finally, lurching forward and kissing him square on the lips. After a moment, he kissed back, holding the small of her back delicately and cupping her chin. Their kiss finally ended, both grinning, as he picked up his bags and began to walk towards the line.

She stood there, grinning like a fool, stunned, watching his back as he walked. Then, as he threw his bags into the pile, he turned towards her, meeting her eye and grinning madly. Then, he opened his mouth, giving her view of the perfect, shiny white teeth.

"I've been waiting for that forever."


End file.
